Still hadn’t figured out how to broach that subject with her, but if anyone could help him know how to deal with Kasra, it’d be Dani. But if this friend of Jazani’s worked out—
The compound’s big gate was lumbering open.
Range swung into the drive and gaped at what he saw. “What the …?” Stunned, he eased under a carport that bridged two of the three-story structures. Good, at least SATINT wouldn’t be able to spot it easily. But this place … unreal. Couldn’t tell from the outside how lush this place was, but palatial came to mine. Instead of a dirt driveway, concrete pavers laid out in an intricate design formed the drive. A fountain hogged the center. Gilded gates over doors. Corinthian columns.
Who was this friend of hers?
He killed the engine. Grunted at the pinch in his side, took a moment to brace himself.
Kasra opened the passenger door and bent inside, her brown-green eyes vibrant. “He was not happy I did not call.”
Who was this man that put color in her cheeks again? He grimace-smiled.
With a half smile, she grabbed her satchel and bag. “Come.”
He swiveled his legs out of the car, told himself to go slow. The bullet … But even as he stood, he felt the world object. Or maybe that was his head. Or his whole body. Heard Kasra’s breath. Quick steps.
Hands caught and steadied him. “Zaki, help!”
The world was going upside-down. “Whoa.” He clenched his eyes. Shook his head sharp. His ears were hollowing, his vision ghosting.
“Merciful God!” came a thickly accented voice. “Inside, inside!”
“Kas …” Range breathed as the world blurred into vague shapes. Darkness swooped in.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Wesh, Kandahar Province, Afghanistan
“Who is he?”
Kasra hugged herself, watching Zaki set gauze on the abdomen wound on which he had performed surgery. Shifted her gaze up his muscled chest to the slack, pale face of Range who lay unconscious. How had she not noticed how bad his injury was? This brave, honorable man had done so much for her, and she had nearly let him die.
A scar on his shoulder warned this was not the first time he had been shot. She recalled that moment in the hut when the roof had fallen and she had stumbled into him. Her hand on his chest. He had brushed her hair from her face and she felt as if fire had spread through her belly.
“Kasra!” Zaki hissed, coming toward her. “Stop staring at him unclothed. It is not proper.” He wagged a hand. “Come. Out.”
Startled out of her musings and inventory of Range, she turned away. “Do not be ridiculous.” Though Range was only missing his shirt—cut off by Zaki so he could tend the wound—she averted her gaze. Followed him out of the bedroom and down the hall, where he washed his hands at the kitchen sink. Worry held her hostage as she sat at the table.
Here, Zaki had many of the Western comforts that most Afghan homes went without. He had spent too much time doing work in England and France and brought his love of certain amenities back to Wesh.
“Who is he, Kasra?” Zaki hissed. “That was a bullet wound!”
“An American soldier.” Feeling the weariness of being on the run for the past several days and needing to do something not to feel strangely guilty, she made tea. “He …” She sniffed. “He captured me. Arrested me.”
Zaki jerked around, water splashing as he pierced her with those near-black eyes. “I should have put poison in that wound!”
“Again, you are being ridiculous.” She lifted a shoulder in a lazy shrug as she cradled the mug in her hand. If Range had not captured her, he would not have come into her life. And she was growing very glad for that.
After he finished sanitizing his hands and drying them, Zaki pulled meat and cheese from the fridge, then joined her at the table. “From start to finish. Tell me how you have come to be with this man.”
She gave a laugh she did not feel. “You have always been a gossip.”
“And you have always had the best stories.” He snagged his phone from a counter. “First, I must tell—”
“No!” Kasra slapped the device from his hand. “Tell no one that I am here. Andnevermention him. Ever.”
Surprise creased his eyes into a greedy smile. “You care about this American.”
